The Accidental Archmage - Book Five: Loki's Gambit

by Edmund A. M. Batara

  It was soft and clearly meant to be crushed. He squeezed it tightly. As the crumbly pieces slipped through his fingers, he heard Odin’s familiar voice.

  “Hail, and congratulations, First Mage. A victory worthy of a saga.! You defeated the undead threat to Hedmark, saved Skaney, and resolved the puzzle of the undead scourge! All in one battle! Impressive, to say the least. My confidence in you was well-placed. I do apologize for not being in person, but the threat to Asgard had grown. I trust Thor performed to your expectations. If not, there’s a quest for him in the future. Such ventures would make him a better warrior and heir. But with the threat to the mortal lands gone, Asgard’s forces are now being recalled. Ymir’s forces, strengthened by creatures from the southern lands, have been joined by some of Sutr’s minions. They are still attacks of exploration, but I fear the worst. You still have a leeway of several days before Freyr’s quest. We have been able to create some dissension among their forces on their borders. Knowing those jotunn lords, they will not act until they are satisfied they have enough strength to wage war on each if needed. But a war between them in the future, there shall be. In the box is my promise to you, more than enough to get you and your men to Kemet and the southern lands and then back. But be sparing with them. It will be some time before more could be made. Oh, and do visit the Gothi. You’ll find it rewarding.”

  The voice faded in his mind. Tyler opened the box. In it was a pouch filled with a quantity of small white stones, each with Odin’s rune.

  Thanks, old man.

  Loki spake:

  64. "'1 have said to the gods | and the sons of the god,

  The things that whetted my thoughts;

  But before thee alone | do I now go forth,

  For thou fightest well, I ween.

  65. "Ale hast thou brewed, | but, Ægir, now

  Such feasts shalt thou make no more;

  O'er all that thou hast | which is here within

  Shall play the flickering flames,

  (And thy back shall be burnt with fire.)"

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Loki's Gambit

  They all woke up early and were having a quick breakfast in the room of the ranger and the einherjar when Aage announced that the jarl and a visitor were coming.

  The mage could plainly see Aage’s haggard and sorrowful expression. He guessed he was the one tasked with identifying the remains of the warriors rudely awakened from their desecrated slumber.

  “My apologies for disturbing you, High Mage. But Jarl Geir wishes an audience together with Jarl Leif of Voss.”

  “I hope they don’t mind talking with us as we eat,” said Tyler.

  “They’re both warriors at heart and still are, despite the trappings of being a jarl. I’ll show them in.”

  Two men entered the room, followed by Aage. The party stood up. Jarl Leif, with his blond hair and mustache, was also a young man though older than his companion, and the thick muscles and tanned skin spoke of continuing exposure to a warrior’s or hunter’s life.

  After introductions were made, everybody sat down. Tyler invited the visitors to the early breakfast and was surprised when they accepted.

  “Riding and marching hard for several hours gives a man an appetite,” Jarl Leif explained with a chuckle.

  “Jarl Leif just arrived with mounted men. The main host was marching toward us, but messengers had been sent directing them to return home,” clarified the other jarl.

  “I finally got past my advisers and relatives,” laughed Jarl Leif. “Something convinced them everything depended on Hedmark. Though I believe the arrival of our own scouts had something to do with it. But it appeared I came late to the festivities.”

  “Now we have time to rebuild and rebuild fast. I fear Hirdburg would be sorely tempted to look this way again,” Jarl Geir said with disgust. “It’s hard enough fighting jotnar and other creatures at your doorstep. But a stab in the back is worse.”

  Jarl Leif slapped the back of the ruler of Hedmark.

  “Come on, Geir. You know it’s but a matter of time. Some jarls are already wary of our esteemed High King. Remember that paltry force he sent to Scarburg?”

  “Another of his schemes. It’s that adviser of his, that young trader!”

  Am I hearing this? A civil war in the offing? And a young trader? Farman? He’s been busier than I thought! Freaking multi-tasker.

  But he kept his counsel. What’s the point of telling them Loki’s involved? There will be war if the Trickster God wants one.

  “Enough of our concerns, Leif. Jarl Leif here wants to extend his gratitude in person, High Mage. Saving Hedmark also saved his domain. Though as long as he’s here, I better take the opportunity to confer with my friend about the future,” said Jarl Geir. “And as you have heard, a warning too on the future of Skaney. Most of the rulers here don’t readily bow down to threats and schemes. There’s bound to be war, even if Hirdburg is the strongest in terms of armored men and mounted warriors among the domains. Hedmark had more men under arms before but most are bowmen or rangers. And my domain had lost a lot of men during this undead incursion.”

  ***

  The party reappeared in a clearing a few hundred feet from the thick boughs of the beginnings of a woodland area. The mage smiled at the welcome sight. The journey had been long and arduous, and now he was but a short distance from home.

  He had advised the jarl they’d be leaving, that other matters demanded their attention. The ruler took it in good stride, even as celebrations were being prepared. Jarl Geir did tell him he’d always be welcome in Skaney and pointed out a wooded hill just on the outskirts of the fortress. That area, said the jarl, now belonged to the High Mage. Tyler could build a keep there, costs to be shouldered by Hedmark. Expressing his thanks, Tyler simply mentioned he'd seriously consider the idea of a keep. Tyndur, though, was ecstatic.

  Now, they were half a kingdom away from the killing fields of Hedmark. He glanced around. The expressions on the faces of his companions also reflected what he felt.

  Tyndur was anxious to get to Maljen and check whether the bards he had arrangements with had spread his ballad. The mage prayed that the skalds fulfilled their part of the bargain, otherwise he’ll have his hands full sorting out the mess a furious Tyndur would leave behind. Habrok intended to travel to Karsfell to visit his son after a day or two in Maljen. Kobu looked forward to visiting the Gothi. Meeting a reservoir of knowledge was how he described the coming visit. The mage hoped the Gothi wouldn’t disappoint. The exile was armed with a letter of introduction and was to wait for the mage at the Gothi’s house.

  The agreement was to spend four days by themselves and then meet back at Maljen. From there, they would travel to Scarburg and attempt to meet with the dokkalfr as requested by the deity Freyr. Tyler had grave reservations about that part. There was a chance they’d end up fighting the people they’d come to save. Assuming they survived the dokkalfr and Ymir, the party would proceed to Kemet to check on Asem and Astrid.

  A busy period, observed Tyndur, and being around the dokkalfr made him uncomfortable. Even Habrok voiced the same feeling.

  “It really would be a strange experience being around the dokkalfr and yet not drawing steel. Habits of long practice are hard to break,” remarked the ranger.

  The mage merely replied that the matter would be discussed in Maljen. He wanted the company to rest and recuperate, even for a few days. Tyler knew the enormous strain they had undergone demanded it - the rigors of traveling through the Barrens, encountering a new civilization, and then arriving at a fortress under siege by the undead. Given his luck, even the visit to Kemet would probably end with another complication.

  As they started to walk toward the trees, a voice called out his name from behind them.

  “First Mage,” it said, a familiar voice full of friendly and pleasing reassurance.

  Loki’s voice.

  As one, the companions turned and spread out, drawing their weapons. Tyler stared at th
e deity. Loki looked ready for war.

  Gone were the expensive clothes and footwear of his trader identity. Loki was wearing a golden suit of light plate armor. He disdained the use of a helm, preferring to let his long dark hair flow down his back. A thin ornate circlet of gold substituted for the headgear. Runes covered the surface of the armor, patterns of energy passing through them, giving off a deep verdant glow in contrast to its golden color.

  At that point, Tyler realized Loki’s gear was more that of a magic user than a melee warrior, though the deity held a long spear in his right hand. The weapon exuded a strong aura of magical energy. The mage then realized who was responsible for the theft of the divine weapons mentioned by Odin.

  “My greetings, Havard!” called out Loki. “I had the Hel of a time trying to find you after Hedmark. I believe congratulations are in order for that victory.”

  “Good morning too, Loki. You could have visited me in Hedmark,” replied Tyler.

  “And get stuck in a siege? No, thank you. Impressive work though in dispelling the undead conjuration. Didn’t think you could do it,” came the smooth reply.

  “Why do I get the feeling you were responsible for the plague?” remarked the mage, finding odd the phrasing of Loki’s answer.

  “Accusations, accusations. Again, and again. Even from you. Is there no trust in this world anymore? I am hurt, First Mage,” said the smiling deity.

  “Well, I didn’t hear you deny it.”

  “I absolutely had nothing to do with the creation of the spell. There. Does that satisfy you?” declared Loki in a pleasant timbre.

  “Maybe. I don’t know. Though I get the feeling I need a lawspeaker, a lagmann, whenever I talk to you,” commented the mage.

  “My reputation does work against me at times.”

  “And talking about trust, that torc had a tracking spell on it,” accused Tyler. “How could I trust you now?”

  “It’s a protection spell in the event the item is stolen. A normal precaution for such magical items,” the deity deftly explained, still maintaining the smile which was slowly irritating the mage.

  “And the ambush in the Barrens? Don’t tell me you didn’t have anything to do with that!”

  “You were ambushed? Of course not. Why would I put something in your path and intentionally endanger my oath? As you can see, I am still whole, and the magic holds me free of any violation. Though we could mutually agree to dissolve the agreement and slug it out. But where’s the fun in that? There’s nothing like fighting with one hand tied behind your back. More challenging!” said the deity with a wink.

  The mage tried to get his thoughts in order. Dealing with the master of lies and deceit was a trying test of wit and words. He had to be careful about his questions and maximize the amount of information gained from the answer.

  “Up to the time of the ambush, it was either you or somebody from the Dual Monarchy who could identify where we were. Though I have my doubts about the latter. All the Girnita knew was the general direction of our intended journey. Did you, by any chance, tell anybody where I was?”

  Loki raised his head, as if trying to remember.

  “Could be.”

  “Who?” continued Tyler calmly.

  “I believe I might have let slip to Anansi that you were in the Barrens. But I did tell him our arrangement. He’s one of my few friends, and I didn’t want any misunderstanding. I did have need of some of his pets,” Loki finally answered. But it was an answer that didn’t sit well with the companions. Tyler might be constrained from attacking Loki, but they weren’t.

  “Bastard.”

  The curse came from Habrok and was quickly followed by a rain of arrows. The ranger was letting fly the shafts as fast as he could. Flames blazed from the tip of some of the projectiles and on others, electrical coruscations. Kobu immediately vanished and the mage could see his weapon had already shifted form to its kanabo shape. Tyndur quickly charged at the deity with a loud battle cry, his battleaxe aflame. The battle cry was an obscene one, and Tyler could see it was intended to draw the attention of the target away from attacks of the others.

  The smile now turned into a smirk on Loki’s face. A slight movement of the spear and Habrok’s arrows all disintegrated in mid-air. An invisible force picked up the ranger and threw him back about fifty feet. At the same time, the deity swiftly lifted his left arm, palm open, and it slammed into the body of the reappearing Kobu, forcibly flinging him into the ground. Tyler could only hope the exile’s magical black armor saved him from serious injury. Tyndur’s swift charge slammed into an invisible wall several feet from Loki, stunning the einherjar.

  “Boys. Be glad I have an agreement with your master. Otherwise, you’ll feel pain as you have never before experienced. I still have a lot of Skadi’s snake venom stored away, you know. It’s reserved for deities, but I could make for an exception.”

  “Deities? Why? Are you in open war now against the Norse pantheon?” exclaimed Tyler.

  “Not only the Norse, First Mage. But the pantheons don’t know it yet,” Loki merrily laughed. Then he looked at Tyler, his eyes holding the mage’s attention.

  “I am more powerful than that traitorous foster father of mine. But he doesn’t realize it yet either. Ah, such a day of surprises that would be,” declared the deity, still with a pleasant smile. “But come. Let’s have a quiet talk for a while, away from your distracting adolescent companions who apparently forgot their mortal limitations. Very disrespectful. But I’ll let this incident pass. Next time, I won’t be so forgiving.”

  Then he looked at Kobu who was already standing, posed in an attack stance.

  “I wouldn’t dream of trying a second time, warlord. Deities of my level could see the magical pattern of your ability. You’ll find this spear skewering you if you try that parlor trick again. But as ignominious as impalement would be, consider a death inflicted by this weapon to be an honor. I don’t think Gungnir has tasted a mortal for some time.”

  ***

  The mage suddenly found himself standing high on a rocky escarpment on a mountainside. The stiff breeze blew through his armor and chilled his skin.

  “Why here? It’s so damned cold!” protested Tyler. “My balls are going to freeze in a few minutes.”

  “Sorry. I was thinking of the perfect scenic view,” replied Loki. A bonfire appeared in the middle of the clearing and the wind’s strength lessened.

  “Better?” asked Loki solicitously.

  Tyler nodded, holding out his hands to the warmth of the flames.

  “Thanks,” said the mage quietly.

  “As I said, a very picturesque sight. To your left, the western lands of Skaney, with the added bonus of Ymir’s legions and the dokkalfr, and to the right are the fertile regions of the east. A much, much better proposition, now those rotting undead have been dealt with. I do hope they get buried. Otherwise, they’ll stink up the place.”

  Tyler was becoming bewildered. Loki’s discussion was confusing, to say the least – talking about overthrowing the order of things and then concern about sanitation the next. The mage didn’t know if the trickster god was purposely being obtuse or merely demented, though the east reference intrigued him, not without a great deal of apprehension.

  “What do you mean by east? Eastern Skaney, I suppose?” asked the mage.

  “East is east. Though strictly speaking if one says west, there’s no south or north, is there? Everything is either east or west. Now, where were we? Ah, revolution. Adar-wide. Served on Loki’s silver, no, golden platter. The rise of man. New deities, benevolent, of course. A far lesser number of gods by the time it’s finished. Nicer ones too, I hope.”

  “Benevolent? Ha. Just a set of new masters, with a high chance of being worse overlords,” remarked Tyler, still warming himself.

  “Same dog, new collar wouldn’t do, Havard. It’s one of your fascinating First World sayings. If the new deities are not worth the change, then why not yet another revolution? And then another
? Blood and war, violence and piety, destroy and rebuild. But after all the ensuing chaos and mayhem, the trail of bodies, death, and destruction, I doubt if mortal man would be willing to believe in deities anymore. At least, in those that don’t deliver. The ordinary mortal might be gullible or even stupid, but even the most patient animal has limits."

  “You’d be surprised, Loki. But that’s it? Your grand purpose? Would that be worth all the deaths carried on your shoulders? I would say conscience, but that would be lying. What a, excuse the term, moronic concept, repeating the same bloody and destructive mess over and over again until those at the bottom refuse to have anything to do with it anymore,” said Tyler.

  “Oh, this part I like! The drama! The moral question! The bitterness! The intellectual and philosophical banter!”

  The mage unbelievingly stared at Loki.

  This bitch is insane.

  “I know that look, First Mage. Remember, the great and wise made me what I am. From a god of mere mischief to a lord of evil. You could say they brought this on themselves. This is what evil does, am I right?”

  “I don’t believe so,” slowly replied Tyler. “Mindless death and destruction are chaos, but not evil. Evil is a purpose unto itself. Without that, its existence becomes… pointless.”

  “Ha! I do have a purpose. And when the pantheons do finally fall, I shall savor my victory,” answered Loki with a smile. Though he did adopt a victorious pose with his right profile facing the mage.

  “What purpose would your pointless war serve, if you admit it’s but exchanging old masters for new ones!” shouted Tyler in frustration.

  “Sorry, but that’s one thing I can’t share. No lord of evil goes around announcing his purpose in life. That’s common sense.”

  Oh, God. He’s not only insane but thinks himself as a visionary. Probably the worst alternative – an insane visionary. I don’t know anymore. I can’t find the words to describe this pyscho. Batshit crazy? Nah, too mild.

  “You think you’ve got a lunatic in front of you, Havard.”